WEBVTT

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I want to end by reading three
poems that are very recent.

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The most recent, in
fact, and I guess

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they will go
without explanation.

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The first one is entitled,
"December 29, 1890,"

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Wounded Knee Creek.

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It's a poem about a photograph,
or a series of photographs.

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"In the shine of photographs
are the slain, frozen and black

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on a simple field of snow.

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They image ceremony.

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Women and children dancing,
old men prancing, making fun.

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In the autumn, there
were songs, long since

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muted in the blizzard.

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In summer, the wild
buckwheat shone

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like fox fur and quill work,
and dusk guttered on the creek.

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Now in serene attitudes of
dance, the dead in glossy death

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are drawn in ancient light."

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